Autobiography
by Simon920
Summary: Nightwing agrees to tell his life story to Clark Kent.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: Bolded passages are Nightwing's comments, added after the initial interview.**

**Autobiography**

**Part One  
**

**I guess that probably no one will ever see this. I'd call it a long shot, anyway and that why it's being placed in Bruce's personal safe in a plain manila envelope and hidden under some other stuff. I figure the odds of anyone actually bothering to look at it while I'm still breathing are somewhere around a snowball's chance in hell. That's my hope, anyway.**

**This is my autobiography, or as close to one as I ever expect to get and I want to say right up front that it wasn't my idea: it was Kal's. Kal. Superman. We were talking one night after a bust and he mentioned that he thought that I had a story to tell and he pushed and pushed and pushed the idea. He kept pushing in that quiet, you don't even realize that he's pushing way that he has until I found myself agreeing to let Clark Kent interview me for as long and over as many sessions as it would take to get everything out.**

**It took weeks, seemed like years and these are the transcripts. Y'know, I never thought I could talk about myself for that long or have that much to say about myself but Clark has this way of making you talk…I guess that's one reason he's so good at his job.**

**The ground rules were simple; this was never to see daylight without my express written and verbal permission (and leaving instructions in my will count, too). No names were to _ever_ be published, whether the person is dead or alive. No exceptions. I've made some arrangements that this will be given over to Clark at the time of my death, assuming that I predecease him (which is pretty likely). I'll toss it in his court and he can do whatever he wants with it whenever he wants. I figure I won't care.  
**

**Why would I tell _any _of this to a reporter? No, it's not because I think I'm so special, not really, anyway. But—I do understand that my life hasn't been what anyone could call normal. I do, and have done stuff no one else has. I know that sounds like ego run amuck, but it's a fact.**

**Will anyone care?**

**I've no idea.**

**Will anyone, anywhere at any time ever see this?**

**You got me.**

**What's in this for me?**

**I guess everyone wants to be understood and yes, I know how adolescent that sounds but after all the crap and garbage and flat out lies that have been written about me some part of me wants to tell my side of things.**

**So—this is my take. We usually met in Clark's apartment and sometimes in a secluded park if the weather was nice, he used a recorder so this is what went down, pretty much verbatim.**

**Note: One more thing; after we were finished I read through the transcript and made notes, comments and corrections. In some cases I explained what I'd said—just to clarify things.**

***

Clark Kent: So, Nightwing, ready?

Nightwing: I guess.

CK: All right, let's start at the beginning; where and when were you born? Who are your parents, your family?

NW: I'm twenty now and I was born in Gotham but I didn't stay there, not then. My parents were John and Mary Grayson; they were both trapeze artists—fliers in a circus and just happened to be playing Gotham when my mother went into labor. When I was old enough—when I was three—I joined the act and we toured with a show until I was almost nine.

CK: You seem uncomfortable—would you rather not go into this?

NW: Well—I've never, it's just that—I've never talked about this to anyone who wasn't, you know—who wasn't 'in the business'. It's weird…** Well, yeah, Clark. I really enjoy talking about the most traumatic thing that ever happened to me.**

CK: Would you like to move on to something else?

NW: No. I guess it's okay. I'm okay.

CK: All right, what happened then, when you were eight years old?

NW: The circus we worked for was targeted by a protection scheme—organized crime. The owner refused to pay; my parents were the first 'accidents'.

CK: And?

NW: They were killed. The ropes were weakened, broke and they fell. I was finished with my part of the act, had climbed down and saw it from the ground.

CK: What happened then?

NW: They were murdered; I was orphaned. It's pretty straightforward.

CK: But that had to have been severely traumatic, what happened to you after the 'accident'?

Note: At this point Nightwing became flustered and upset, whether from remembered shock and grief or by the simple fact the question was asked. CK apologized for bringing a previously unknown episode in his life without advance warning. After a full two minutes NW continued**. They were killed. I saw the ropes snap. I heard the twanging noise as they broke; sort of like a guitar string breaking. I saw the looks on my parents faces as they fell, heard my mother's cut off scream and I heard the thuds when they hit the sawdust. I walked over, though I don't remember doing so and saw my father's neck and back were broken—he looked like a doll some kid had thrown against a rock or something. He had blood coming out of his mouth and his eyes were opened, but he was dead. I remember seeing some sawdust stuck to his eye and that bothered me more than anything else did at that second. I thought that had to hurt, to have that crap in his eye—stupid, huh? Then I turned to where my mom was lying a couple of feet away and knelt down but I didn't touch her. I was afraid to. She was still alive and was trying to say something to me but couldn't. Her fingers twitched a little, like she was trying to reach me but that only lasted a few seconds. I knew she was dead when her eyes went dead. I know that sounds odd but it was like she had doll eyes, dead, glass and I knew she couldn't see me anymore. **

NW: I remember sitting in the audience—the crowd had all left the arena by then—and I guess I was in shock. There was a man, an audience member who'd stayed behind and I remember that he was kind to me, put his arm around me and let me cry for a while against him. I can still remember exactly how he felt holding me and the smell of his after-shave. He didn't say anything, but he helped. I hid my face against him so I wouldn't see the ambulance guys loading my parent's bodies onto the stretchers and wheeling them away. **I could hear everything that was happening, could hear the police sirens, the crowd's screams and then them leaving. I could, finally, when the audience was gone and it was just the cops and the circus people, I could hear his heartbeat because I was holding and hiding against this stranger so tightly.**

CK: Did you ever find out who the man was?

NW: Yeah, later, a few weeks later I did but I didn't know who he was then.

CK: What happened next—are you all right?

NW: Yeah, I'm okay; I've had over ten years to deal with this. **Like anyone ever really gets over that. C'mon, Clark… **Anyway, I was immediately put under the protection of CPS (Child Protective Services) but it was late at night and they said I'd have to be placed with a temporary foster family the next day. I wanted to stay with circus friends but the cops insisted that I go into protective custody because I was a material witness to murder so I was forcibly loaded into a squad car. I remember screaming and fighting at that point, but no one seemed to care other than the circus people who tried to.... **The cops held them back. **I spent the night in Juvie, in a cell. The next day I was taken to a temporary foster home, but I ran away two days later. The 'father' had a liking for little boys so I went out the window. I was assigned to another family but the mother was an alcoholic—I went out the window again. After that I was marked as an incorrigible runaway and put back in Juvie…that was bad.

CK: Juvie?

NW: Yeah. They decided to call it 'protective custody' because I was a material witness to the murders. I was the youngest kid there and so I was sort of a target until one older kid—Jamie—sort of took me under his wing. He said I reminded him of his younger brother and after that the others pretty much left me alone. I still see Jamie once in a while; he's a good guy. **I still hang with him sometimes and have gotten him a job with CPS in Bludhaven. He's knocking it out of the park and I think it's because he's seen just how crappy it can be.**

CK: You seem pretty calm about all this—it must have been terrible…

NW: …Yeah, well, like I said, it was a long time ago. 'Not much choice, really—deal with it or let it eat you up. I dealt. **And think about it when I see a family in the park or deal with the nightmares every year when the anniversary comes around…good times.**

CK: Sink or swim?

NW: 'Pretty much, yeah.

CK: And being Robin, how did that happen? That was a direct result, wasn't it? How did you end up with Batman; did you know him before?

NW: He was at the show, just by coincidence—I didn't know him, hadn't ever met him. It was a fluke he was there. He was the one who sat with me in the audience, comforted me as much as he could. I didn't know who he was then, he wasn't in costume; I was in shock and I didn't really care at that point, anyway. He followed what was happening to me—not every day or anything but after a few weeks he made a call to see what happened to me and found out I was in a cell. He got me out that day and…

CK: And?

NW: And he got me out, arranged the legalities when he found out no one in my real family gave a rat's ass about what happened to me. **He made me his legal ward—which is just this side of a legal adoption. He used to claim that he had it set up as a guardianship because he didn't want me to think that he was trying to replace my father. I found out years later, from finding and reading a file of memos and legal back and forth, that it was to ensure that I wouldn't have his name and, in case things didn't work out, it would be slightly easier to sever connections. I'm reasonably sure he doesn't know I know about that.**

CK: Batman 'adopted' you?

NW: No. Bruce Wayne adopted me, sort of. Like I said, it wasn't a full adoption.

CK: Did you just admit that Bruce Wayne is Batman?

NW: Things like that are why this thing is supposed to stay sealed, right, Clark? **And yes, Bruce Wayne finally adopted me but that didn't happen until years later, after I was an adult. I'm still not completely sure why he changed the legal set up since his will was binding, no matter what my status as a member of his family was. And it wasn't like our relationship was going to appreciably change—it was pretty much set in stone by then. He told me it was 'time and long past due' but…I don't know, whatever. So, anyway, my name was technically changed to Grayson-Wayne, but I only use that for major legal stuff. I'm still Grayson, as far as I'm concerned.**

CK: Right. So when did you find out who he was? And—wait—how did you deal with all of this? I mean, you were violently orphaned, locked up, forgotten or lost by the system and then moved in with one of the richest men on the planet. That's a lot for anyone to cope with and you were, what—eight? How did you manage that?

There was a pause while NW formulated his answer. The pause lasts almost a full minute on the tape.

NW: My main reaction at that point—the first month or two after I moved in to Wayne Manor— was anger; all day, every day. At night it was mostly nightmares and tears. I knew that my parents were dead and I knew they hadn't done anything wrong, nothing to deserve what happened to them. I was angry and couldn't understand why I couldn't stay with friends and was in a cell, I couldn't understand why no one came to visit me in Juvie or why I was still there after a few weeks went by.

Then when Bruce got me out and took me to his home I was angry that—still—no one was listening to me and what _I_ wanted.

CK: Which was?

NW: To be with my friends, back with the circus. If that couldn't happen I wanted to go with relatives. I had grandparents I could have lived with but I didn't hear anything from them and sure as hell didn't see them. So I was angry. **I think it was a few years before the anger mostly went away. Once in awhile—not often—I still have moments when it hits me all over again but finding and arresting the man who arranged their murders went a long way to healing me. And, even I have to admit, my personality is basically optimistic and that's helped a lot, too. The glass usually looks at least half full to me, even when it's not.  
**

CK: Why couldn't you go with your blood family? Were you kept from them for some reason?

NW shrugged in response then, after another lengthy pause, answered.

NW: I called them--my grandparents-- years later and asked them that. They said that they were too upset to deal with me at that stage since they'd just lost their daughter. When I was about fourteen I met with them but it turned out to be a one-off. My grandmother started crying when she saw me and left the room then my grandfather explained that because I look a lot like my mother she couldn't stand to be in the same room with me. He made small talk for a whle; how did I like school and that kind of thing but then he said he had an important meeting and left. I let myself out and I haven't had any contact with them since, 'don't see any point. **I still don't really understand that—who abandons a kid who's just been orphaned and has no place to go? Especially a grandchild—that's one of the areas of anger I still have some work to do, I guess. I'm to the point of thinking it was their loss, but whether or not they'd agree—hell if I know or care.**

CK: So, going back a little, how did you become Robin and how did you find out that your new guardian was Batman?

NW: That's two questions.

CK: Sorry.

NW: It's okay. I first figured out that Bruce was Batman about two months after I moved I with him. I knew there was something going on but at first I just figured that he was out either working or getting laid.

CK: You figured those were the choices when you were _eight_?

NW: Circus kid, remember? I sort of grew up fast, saw a lot of stuff—you know how it is.

CK: Not really…

NW: Anyway, I was hanging out in a room that was supposed to be off limits and noticed that a piece of furniture was out of place which was something that never happened there so it caught my eye. I watched it for a few days and noticed that it was slightly moved almost every day. I started playing around with it and found out it was a secret door down to the cave. That's when I found out. I went down and looked around and found the car, his costumes and the trophies…it was pretty obvious what I'd found. **It was a no brainer. I was surprised but it made sense and so I remember sort of nodding to myself and thinking, 'well, yeah, that explains it'.**

CK: And that's when you became Robin?

NW: No. First he had to find out I knew so a few days later I just blurted it out. He was 'leaving for the evening' and I said something like 'You're going on patrol; you're Batman, aren't you?' He got this semi-stunned look on his face for about a millisecond, said something about me having an active imagination and left. I was right though and the next day he 'fessed up and took me downstairs and gave me the tour. That's when he asked me if I'd like to help him and, naturally, I jumped at the offer but then I had to train for a long time before he'd let me go out with him. **God, it seemed like years but he kept dangling the carrot of catching my parent's killers. Any time I was too tired or not in the mood or started complaining he'd say it again and that would bring me to heel pretty fast.**

CK: About the costume…

NW: (laughing) Lay off the costume, Clark. When I was eight I thought it was pretty fashion forward. So, lay off.

CK: Why 'Robin'?

NW: Bruce thought it was because of the whole Robin Hood idea…

CK: It wasn't?

NW: Robin was my mother's nickname for me when I was little; I was born on the first day of spring so that's what she called me.

CK: It's not your real name?

NW: C'mon, you know it isn't. It was a connection back to my parents and I liked the idea, that's all. Finally I simply out grew the character though, so I changed the costume and the name. Some of my friends thought I should have made the change a lot sooner, but there you go.

CK: Tell me about being Robin.

NW: Next time, okay? **It was late and I was tired of talking about myself without opening that whole can of worms…**

TBC

7


	2. Chapter 2

**Autobiography**

**Part Two**

**The interview/talk/conversation with Clark Kent and me continued over the course of several months. This is the second time we met. I think we talked for a couple hours this time and he wanted to know how the whole Robin thing came about. This is how it went:**

Clark Kent: So, tell me how becoming Robin happened—and what was that like?

Nightwing: Um…**I had no idea where to even start with this.**

CK: Okay, first of all, how old were you, eight, nine?

NW: I was a few months past my ninth birthday the first time Robin made his appearance. Batman made sure that I was trained enough that he felt he could depend on me to not get killed—he had to know that he didn't have to baby-sit me the whole time and that took a while. **Like I think he's **_**still**_** not completely sure…**

CK: But what made either of you—especially Batman, a grown man, think that a child could or _should_ be put in danger like that? On the surface it seems…

NW: Nuts? Yeah, I know. He took a lot of crap for that from the Justice League and the cops, then the media chimed in and for a while it was pretty intense whether or not I'd be allowed to continue. I just thought it was a rush, y'know? 'Beat the hell out of cub scouts, right? **Okay, when I thought about it—which I didn't too often—even I had to admit it was insane. I mean, I knew that; no brainer.**

CK: So what changed everyone's mind?

NW: My winning personality? Sorry. Okay, well first of all I had to pass all the GPD police tests before I could do anything and then I had to pass the tests for detective, too. I guess most people don't realize that, but I'm legit, fully licensed to operate in Gotham and later Interpol and then Bludhaven licensed me.

CK: You were nine?

NW: When I got my first badge, yeah. I know, I was pretty young but what the hell—I passed the tests, aced them, in fact. Then when I was ten I passed the tests for accreditation from Interpol so that gave me some major cred with the cops.

CK: I've heard that Commissioner Gordon was dead set against you being allowed on the streets. True?

NW: Of course he was against it, c'mon; I was nine years old, Clark. He finally came around, though. It took a few years, but he did. **I think he was afraid that I'd get killed and the PR fallout would have been a nightmare—okay, and I know he liked me personally. He always treated me like a favorite nephew or something. I know he's always gone out of his way to be protective of me, he was always good to me. Then when he found out about me and his daughter he sort of cooled for a while but maybe he was right about that. I don't know, maybe he was.**

CK: What changed his mind? Was there any one case or episode that did it?

NW: Yes, there was. I was, I think I was ten and there was a report that Twoface was out again. We—Batman and I responded and ended up cornering him in Robinson Park, near the botanical garden. It was winter, cold and it was sleeting—a really crummy night. Batman and I were about to make the collar when a couple of his henchmen created a diversion by breaking a few panes of glass in the conservatory. Batman went to see what was going on and I ended up tackling Twoface alone and bringing him down. By the time Batman and the backup police got there I had him restrained and ready for transport to the nearest station.

CK: And you were how old?

NW: I think I was ten. **Hell, I **_**know**_** I was ten and it was pretty damn cool. **After that they local police figured I was okay and let me do my thing. I mean, we still got a lot of complaints and criticism and stuff and the cops still kept a close watch over me, but I was allowed to fly, so I was happy. **Most of the cops were protective of me and a few were jealous because I was stealing their fire but, hell—the press loved me. I was this cute, gutsy kid who was beating the bad guys at their own game and on their terms. It was a great story and I know it. I knew it back then, too. I was born to be a performer and I really think it's in my genes, in my DNA. Batman used to say I was born to be center stage and he was right. I was—literally. Of course, when he said it, it wasn't meant as a compliment. He always thought I was grandstanding. Okay, he was probably right.**

CK: Do you remember your first case?

NW: You always remember your first time, Clark.

CK: Ahem, yes…**I admit it. I love embarrassing Clark; can't help it. It's like shooting fish in a barrel.**

NW: Sure I do. When my parents were killed I think I told you that I had a lot of anger—really a lot and Batman was afraid that it would warp me, turn me to the dark side and all of that…

CK: Do you think he was right? **He didn't expect that and I knew it but it's true. It would have been easy for me to take the easy way out.**

NW: Yes, he as. If things had turned out differently, sure—I can see myself going down that road. I even think I would have been pretty good at crime; I've seen how it works and I think it's something I could have made a success of if I'd tried.

CK: What area of a crime career do you think you would have excelled at?

NW: Theft is pretty easy, so is drug dealing on a large scale—importing. You can make a serious amount of money doing that.

CK: If you don't get caught.

NW: That's what would have made it kind of fun, Clark—c'mon, _anyone_ can rob a gas station. **Clark gave me this look, like he couldn't tell if I was joking or not and so I decided not to let him know if I was or not. I wasn't—I really can see myself turning to crime if things had been even a little different. That's no lie. And I think I might have been one of the greats, to be honest… maybe in another life…**

CK: Your first case…

NW: I caught the guy who ordered my parent's deaths, put him away. That was supposed to be my debut and swan song but it turned out to be a pretty much full time gig.

CK: And?

NW: And nothing. That's what it was. The guy was locked up, convicted and died in prison a couple of years later—heart attack.

**The answer was a bit curt, even I have to admit that but I still don't like talking about that whole time. It still hurts.**

CK: But how did…

NW: That's all I'm going to say about that.

CK: But…

NK: Moving on, Clark, moving on.

We took a break here because I was getting pissed and Clark was getting frustrated but I wasn't going there. I've never talked about that and I'm not going to now. Or ever, if I can help it. After twenty minutes or so we picked it up again:

CK: You liked being Robin, didn't you?

NW: God, yes, I loved being Robin from the word 'go'. Hell, I got to bring down bad guys, I worked with the Justice League—the _JLA_ f'Chrissakes—I bested some of the world's baddest bad-asses and I got to work with Batman. What kid wouldn't love that?

CK: Any down side to any of that?

NW: Like what, missing Junior Prom? I was over it. **And not being able to have regular kids as friends in case they saw something, falling asleep in class, dealing with the pressure only someone like Batman can lay on you. Working through more injuries than a pro linebacker, stalkers, hours and hours training. 'Wondering if people liked **_**me**_** or liked **_**Robin**_**…Hell, sure, a lot of it was great, but every silver lining has a cloud, right? Don't get me wrong, I **_**did**_** love being Robin but it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows.**

CK: Any regrets or second thoughts about it?

NW: If I did have them, I could have hung up the cape any time, Clark. No one was holding a gun to my head—okay, no one I _worked_ with ever held a gun to my head. **But there were a lot of silent arms twists, dirty looks and guilt trips…**

We took a break here while Nightwing answered his cel phone. It was clear from the side of the conversation I could hear that he was talking with a police office he was working on some case with and seemingly they were about to make an arrest later that evening. When I followed up a few days later he told me that Catwoman was trying to steal some rare snow leopard cubs and the crime had been averted when she was taken into custody that night…CK

NW: Where were we?

CK: You were telling me how being Robin was always up to you and you could have quit any time you wanted. Did you ever seriously consider it?

NW: Not seriously, no. Besides, most of the people I worked with were my best friends and I didn't want to lose them or let them down.

CK: You mean the Titans? Are you all still friends?

NW: Right, the Titans and yes, I'm friends with the ones who are still alive. We work together and hang out. **Thank God.**

CK: You said you never _seriously_ considered quitting. Care to elaborate?

NW: I'm human, everyone has good days and bad days. On a good day it was the best high you can imagine. On a bad day…not so much. It never really got bad enough for me to walk, though. I thought about it sometimes but I'd always tell myself to give it a week or till Tuesday or something and if I still felt the same then I'd quit. But I never did. **'Came close, though, especially when a friend was hurt or killed. I still blame myself for Roy's addiction—okay, that wasn't my fault, but I should have noticed sooner and that kills me. And then when we lost Donna—shit; it doesn't get any worse than that.**

CK: I can't get past the fact that you started all this when you were in elementary school. Aside from encountering people who were often violently criminally insane, you worked with Batman—not an easy personality under any circumstances. **Y'think?**

NW: But you have to remember that he was also my mentor and, in a lot of ways, the closest thing to a father I had left. And I also saw the other side of him, when he was relaxing, hanging out, eating dinner; stuff like that. He wasn't always the big bad Bat around me. **A lot of the time, sure, but not **_**all**_** the time. And, in his way, he tried. He really did and –again, in his way, he loved me. I believe that—in fact, I know he did.**

CK: No truth to the old rumors?

NW: Jesus, them again? No, he never made a pass at me, nor I at him. He's about as hetero as you can get and even if he wasn't, he wasn't about to go after little boys. You have to keep in mind that I was his ward and so CPS was looking over his shoulder until I turned eighteen. If anything had been going on I'd have been pulled from him and placed somewhere else. Besides, the JL always looked out for the sidekicks. They were pretty protective about us, always were. **And Alfred was there. Thank God for Alfred. And Superman, Kal—he always had my back. He was subtle about it, but he made sure I could always call him for help or a shoulder to lean on. I suppose I could have called anyone in the League but does anyone **_**really**_** want to talk to Arthur or Ollie? I owe Kal for that, always will.**

CK: You and Batman had a falling out when you were in your late teens. Could you talk about that?

NW: Next time.

TBC

5


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: Bold passages are Nightwing's comments added after the initial interview.**

**Autobiography**

**Part Three**

**There was a break for a few weeks before I could get some time to talk with Clark again about this book/journal thing he's writing about me. He was busy, I was busy—nothing major or world shaking but stuff got in the way of us getting together. The following took place about a month after the last section.**

Clark Kent: 'Glad you could make it today. You're a busy young man.

Nightwing: Sometimes. Where do you want to start?

CK: I had just asked you about a falling out you seemed have had with Batman when you were in your late teens; how about we pick it up there? **Oh, great…**

NW: Sure, whatever. It was a combination of a few things, I was getting older and I wasn't quite as willing to put up and shut up. That was a large part of it; it wasn't so much teenaged rebellion or anything that simple so much as my being to the point of believing that I could function effectively on my own and him not accepting that. **Talk about an understatement…Loose translation; I wanted more freedom and responsibility, was obnoxious and he was rigid and unrelenting.**

CK: Care to elaborate?

NW: I was seventeen, eighteen and had been working as a vigilante for almost ten years, I'd helped found and led the Titans, worked with just about every recognized hero on the planet and he still was stuck at the point of expecting me to follow a curfew. It was getting to be untenable—for me, anyway. I was frustrated and, to be fair, I assume he was as well. **Oh yeah, big time. I think our shouting matches shoot dust loose in the Manor that had been there for a century. It came close to blows a few times but we never actually connected worth mentioning. I'm not sure who would have won that one. He's stronger than I am, of course, but I was pretty pissed.**

CK: Were all the problems professional?

NW: No. **Not even close.**

CK: Meaning?

NW: Things at the house would get—difficult. He was insisting that I go to college and I wasn't convinced it was what I wanted. I finally ended up going simply because I didn't want to disappoint him—I felt I owed him for everything he'd done for me and so I went along with that. Besides, it might have worked out; I was willing to take a shot at it, anyway. Then, like I said, he hadn't realized that I wasn't your standard high school senior. He expected me to toe the standard finish high school/ go to college/get a MBA route and that just wasn't going to happen.

CK: I've never thought there was anything standard about you, but, aside from the obvious. How did the break happen, did you two have words? **Yeah, Clark. Daily. Good times, oh yeah.**

NW: I'd been working, getting a paycheck since I was three years old and so was obviously capable of supporting myself. I had contacts, job offers, plenty of stuff I could do and I flat out wasn't sure that I wanted to fit into a mold he seemed to have planned out for me. If one of main reasons to go to college is to 'grow up', establish contacts, find your way, learn to function on your own out in the world and all of that—c'mon, I was there when I was eleven. I didn't see the point of my going, still don't. Look, I know that sounds like adolescent angst, but I'm not and frankly have never been a 'normal' kid. I was ready to make my own decisions and run my own life and he didn't get that. **Okay, I didn't ever come out and say any of this to him, either, so I suppose I expected him to read my mind but the truth is that I really wasn't your standard issue teenager and I still think he was wrong to treat me like one. I don't have anything against college per se—of course not—but it just wasn't for me. **

CK: What happened?

NW: I ended up going to a college he'd pretty much picked out and lasted one semester. I knew it wasn't the right thing for me and so I quit. I tried college again a couple of years late but it still just wasn't for me. That was part of the problem between us—him not understanding that I wasn't the same kid I was when we were the 'dynamic duo'—or who he was when he was at that age. **I'd outgrown a lot of our relationship and it wasn't changing to accommodate that fact. He thought status quo was working just fine, if he thought about it at all. I know that I hurt him with all that rebellion—that's what it was, I admit it—and I feel badly about that but I still think that he needed to accept that I wasn't twelve anymore. Besides, there was this gut feeling I had that since no one in my family had gone to college and had done just fine, I could do okay without it, too. I don't know—maybe I was embracing my blue-collar heritage a little too much. Maybe I was just rejecting the whole society, CEO, bigger, better, more, 'aren't I special' crap that I saw way the hell too much of growing up in Wayne Manor. It wasn't Bruce so much but—damn—it sure as hell was thick in the schools I went to and every party or dinner or charity auction I had to attend. It rubbed me wrong then and it rubs me wrong now.**

CK: What caused the break? I mean specifically. Was there a final straw?

NW: One night—I was nineteen and had already dropped out of the first college and gone back to live at the Manor for a while—there was a report that the Joker was out. I was home with a cold but I wasn't that sick and started to get ready to go out. Batman insisted that I sit the evening out but I went anyway and ended up getting hurt pretty badly. He—Batman—flipped out and said he couldn't be responsible for my getting injured and basically fired me, told me that he owned the character or Robin and he was withdrawing my right to use it. **All of which was stupid on several levels. I'd been in harm's way since I'd taken up the Robin cape at nine—it was ridiculous that he was suddenly going all parental on me and I refused delivery on that one. Then there's the fact that I'd been hurt a lot worse more times than I can count—it made no sense for him to get protective at that belated point and I still don't completely understand it. Then, when he dropped the bomb I remember telling him that he could basically take Robin and shove it and I'd do fine without him. That was when I invented Nightwing and made sure Bruce knew I'd taken the name from one of Kal's Kryptonian legends—I really do like the legend and the name but mostly it was a way to stick it to Bruce.**

CK: Seriously? But wait, I remember that. One of GBS's news helicopters saw what was happening and filmed it. You were on a rooftop in Gotham, it was raining and you ended up being shot by Joker and then fell a few stories and landed on a ledge. Is that what you're talking about?

NW: That was it. They kept repaying it on the news over and over again which added fuel to a pretty big fire every time it came on again. Bruce was seeing red.

CK: How badly were you hurt, I mean really.

NW: Not that bad, all in all. The bullet went through my shoulder without causing any permanent damage and I broke a couple ribs in the fall. I healed up all right. **Physically, anyway.**

CK: But he fired you to get you out of danger.

NW: Yeah, that's what he said. I was upset, angry, hurt—you name it. Still am when I think about it. **I know Bruce was, in his screwed up way, trying to protect me but-crap. There are ways to do things and ways not to do them, y'know?**

CK: So what happened next?

NW: I left. I packed a bag and left the front door key on the hall table. **I felt like I was being orphaned for the second time. God, it still hurts. I understand why he did it but I don't think it would have been possible to hurt me more. I finally realized that was probably his point—making sure I wouldn't come back, making sure it was final. For my own good, of course…**

CK: Where did you go?

NW: Titan's Tower for a while. I spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself then Donna and Roy sat me down one day and basically told me to cut the crap and get my shit together. I realized they were right, sucked it up and invented Nightwing. **Also known as 'fuck you, Bruce'.**

CK: How long did it take for you and Batman to repair your relationship? _Is_ it repaired?

NW: It's better. It took a long time, years and there was other stuff that went down—basically us tying to hurt one another in a sort of vicious circle but we finally started to come to terms. He began to accept me as an adult and I started to see him as a good but flawed man. I had him so far up on a pedestal for so long that he had a long was to fall—I thought for a long time that he could do no wrong so…it took a long time. In fact, I'm still working on it. **He canned me then took in Jason—Christ. **_**Jason.**_** Jason gets killed and so, instead of admitting that he made a mistake in bringing in some no-talent street kid with an attitude he accepts Tim as his new chum. Tim's okay but if Bruce was afraid of putting **_**me**_** in danger after a decade of training and experience how the hell does he justify bringing in other kids with less ability/raining/dedication than me? It didn't make sense then and it doesn't make sense now and, yes, I take it personally.**

CK: Can you two work together now or is there still friction?

NW: We work together sometimes. We're professionals. **Besides, he's almost admitted that I'm okay at the job and has even, rarely, gone so far as to compliment me. It's rare but that's new. I'm not saying I could or would want to become his partner again, but it's still nice to see. The problem is that I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop—he pulled the rug out from under me once. I don't trust him not to do it again if something happened. I think that's what's so hard about this whole mess; he's as close to a father figure as I have. Hell, after my parents died he was my father in every real sense of the word, barring the fact that we don't share any DNA. But he was never really my father—he was a mentor, tutor, guardian in both the 'he takes care of me' and 'he watches my back because I'm Robin to his Batman' ways—but he was never nurturing. Alfred filled that void. He was never the kind to ask about how I was getting along in school, other than to bitch at me if I didn't make the honor roll. He sure as hell never thought about things like birthdays or play dates or catching a movie together on a rainy day. But…he was as close to a father as I had for a long time. And we shared a very real sense of belonging and love. I know the word makes him uncomfortable, but it's true. He saved my life in every way it's possible to save someone's life after the murders shattered mine. He gave me a place to live and, more importantly, a reason. He gave me food and food for thought. He made sure that I was strong both physically and mentally. I know Clark and I talked about this last time, but he even gave me his name and that's something he's never done for anyone else, at least not yet.**

CK: Is there anyone you credit with, I don't know quite how to phrase this but, is there anyone other than Batman you'd credit with guiding you, shaping your life; I mean aside from your parents, that is.

NW: Alfred. He was the main one, He was the one who grounded me, bandaged my skinned knees, comforted me after a nightmare, made sure I had clean clothes that fit, saw to it that I ate good food, taught me to be polite and have good manners. Beyond all that stuff, though, he's the one who would listen to me after school or find out if something was bothering me, all that sort of thing. Sometimes I used to think of Bruce and Alfred as good cop/bad cop. You need both of them but Alfred, without him I don't think I would have made it. I really don't and I think—I know—that he knows it. **And you, Clark—you helped shape me. You may not believe that because you're who you are, but it's true. I saw Batman every day, you were…you were—amazing and you still are. Every time I see you, talk to you, you amaze me a little more. I took the name Nightwing partly to pissed off Bruce but I took it to honor you, too. I can't count how many times you were the best part of my day.**

TBC

5


	4. Chapter 4

**Autobiography**

**Part Four**

Clark Kent: What, if any, do you see as the differences between Robin and Nightwing?

Nightwing: The obvious ones; age, experience, maturity, less reliance on partners and backup.

CK: And the less obvious differences?

NW:…My priorities aren't the same as when I was Robin and I think, I hope, that I'm more efficient, better able to do my job. Nightwing is darker than Robin was—largely because I'm darker. I don't mean to say I'm a negative presence, at least I don't think I am, but I'm not eleven anymore. I don't see this career quite as 'gee-whiz' as I used to.

CK: You've grown up, if I understand what you're saying. But Robin was always known for his optimism and sense of joy when he was on patrol or on a case, do you think that's been lost or outgrown?

NW: Maybe to a degree but not really. I mean, my basic personality is pretty optimistic—I've always been like that and I think I still have that. Besides, I thought this was fun back when I was a kid and I still do. It's corny, but I really do love my job—at least most of the time. I'm just more aware that there is a dark side, a down side, that's all.

CK: So optimism tempered with a dose of reality?

NW: I guess that's fair. **And when you grow up you have to move on, jettison a lot of the fantasies and illusions you have when you're a kid. Things aren't as black and white and you start to understand that everyone is both good and bad, it's just a matter of degree either way which tips them from a fairly normal life to a criminal or insane one. It gets harder and harder to make the call which someone is.**

CK: You're an adult now, in your early twenties, right? We haven't touched much on your personal life, your life out of the spandex. Do you mind if we get into that a bit?

NW: Within reason. **I really hate talking about my personal life. Hate it.**

CK: You're reluctant, would you rather not get into this? **Bull's eye, Clark.**

NW: Ask, we'll see what I answer.

**At this point Clark stopped the recorder and said something about this being a semi-official autobiography and wasn't expected to be published, was just for the record at some unknown point in the future. Nothing would ever see daylight without the express agreement of either me or my heirs—if I ever have heirs. Basically he told me to cut the crap and talk. You don't argue with him, you just don't.**

NW: All right, ask.

CK: Thank you, I know you dislike this part of things.

NW: Yeah, but it's okay. **Barely and only because it's you, so let's get this over with.**

CK: Girl friend? Wife? Kids?

NW: No, no and no.

CK: C'mon, you're a good looking, accomplished and world famous young man. You expect me to believe that you're a monk?

NW: I didn't say I am. I'm between girlfriends, I've never been married and, as far as I know, I don't have any kids.

CK: Nightwing, I need more. You're between girlfriends; how old were you when you found your first?

NW: Christ—how much detail do you want here? Okay, fine—I was a late starter simply because I didn't have all that much time. Between Robin, school and other stuff I barely managed four or five hours of sleep on an average day. My first real girl friend was in college, the first time I went, during that semester. I met her during registration and she dumped me about three months later because she said I was never around. **Lori Elton. Shallow bitch—I mean, really. But she did teach me a few things; I have to give her that. Lot's of things in fact, starting with the concept that I was supposed to think of her vagina as a vase—whenever we had sex I was supposed to send flowers. Okay, she heard that line on TV, but stuck by it. I wasn't all that sorry when we were over, truth be told.**

CK: And she was your first?

NW: …It wouldn't be gentlemanly to say any more.

CK: …Very tactful. All right, and then?

NW: I became involved with Kory—which got enough press that I doubt if anyone on the planet missed it. It lasted a couple years. I loved her, she loved me and we planned to get married but—it didn't work out. **Like understatements? There's one for you.**

CK: The wedding was attacked and people were killed.

NW: Right. We tried to keep things together but…it just didn't work out after that. I still see her, I still love her, consider her a friend and I think—hope—she feels the same.

CK: Do you think that being raised by Bruce, with his reputation and active social life influenced you—for better or worse? Or at all, come to think of it.

NW: I also had the influence of my parent's happy marriage but yeah, I got used to strangers at the breakfast table. I was okay with I, though. I knew they wouldn't last and that I would so I didn't really care. I used to play games, try to pissed them off or scare them or whatever; kid's stuff. Bruce usually thought it was funny. **And sometimes he didn't but he knew they were just there for a day or two; a month at the absolute most. They were sort of like Kleenex. I know that sounds pretty crappy, but it's the truth. They didn't matter to him or to me.**

CK: Are you looking for a girl friend now? 'Just curious.

NW: Not actively. It's not like I'm barhopping or trawling the dating sites or anything. Besides, I really _am_ busy—a lot of women have a problem with that, that I disappear for a few days or weeks, or in some cases, months working on something that I may or may not be able to even talk about. But if someone come along—I wouldn't say no. Yeah, at some point I'd like to get married, maybe have kids. If it happens, it happens. **I used to think, assume that I'd do that, get married, I mean. I just figured that it was down the road and, sooner or later, I'd get to it. I think I'd like it, so long as she understood me and could deal with everything. I don't know—maybe it'll never happen. And—shit—I don't think I could face the possibility of leaving another kid who ends up losing another parent. Been there, done that and it sucks as much as anything can suck.**

CK: We haven't really touched on this, but—fans. How do you deal with them?

NK:…Because they're like close fiends or someone I'd like to marry? C'mon, Clark, where are you going with this?

CK: No, because they're a part of the life of ever hero. You've been stalked, had meals interrupted, lost your privacy, been the subject of rumors and gossip. It wasn't that long ago that those pictures—you know the ones I mean—were published and plastered all over the Internet. How do you react to all of that?

NW: Christ. Okay, most fans are all right. They come up to me, ask for an autograph or to take a picture and that's it. They're usually polite and generally perfectly nice people.

Stalking. That was bad, real bad and I finally had to get restraining orders and eventually go to court and, even then, the woman kept insisting that she was my wife. Ina case like that you have to understand that the person is ill and look at it from that perspective. The pictures you're talking about; they were taken when I was in London working on a case and staying with a friend while I was there. The pap was in a building across the street, using a telephoto lens and shooting through the window into the guest bedroom I was using after I'd gotten out of the shower. Obviously, I was angry about that; it was about a blatant violation of privacy as you could find. **Angry? I was pissed, violated, furious and completely impotent to stop them. Roy, of course, thought it was funny. Bruce reamed me for not being more discrete and pulling down the shade. I mean, please.**

CK: What happened about that, any repercussions?

NW: No. By the time I could do anything the pictures were out. I won in court and donated the award to charity but the pictures are still there and probably always will be.

CK: One of the down sides of being in the public eye?

NW: You could say so. **Y'think, Clark? Like I enjoy having my junk all over the net. And if you don't think **_**that**_** led to some interesting fan letters, let me tell you…and you'd be surprised how many women I'd maybe like to get to know who don't find that either funny or entertaining. I can't tell you how many times in the last few months people have asked me if I posed for those things or paid the photographer to enhance my bits. For the record, I didn't.**

CK: You're patterns of speech and the way you refer to Robin in the third person makes me curious; do you think of Robin, I mean when you used that alias, as you or as a character you've created to allow you to function as a vigilante? Do you consider yourself Robin or is Robin apart you play—or played?

NW: I don't think anyone has ever asked me that before.

**Nightwing paused for several minutes, considering his reply. I was afraid that he wasn't going to acknowledge the question or give me an answer but then he finally continued. CK**

NW: I think that Robin is—or was—a _part_ of me. He wasn't all of me, just a part of my personality, the part where I could put on the mask and be someone…someone who could fight criminals and space aliens and win. Then I'd take off the mask and go back to being a seventh grader worried about a history final or a book report. It was a little schizophrenic, but it worked and still does. I have a regular job I go to every day, go out for a beer with the guys afterwards then go home, change into the spandex and patrol Bludhaven. I have two sets of friends—one when I'm wearing jeans and one when I'm in kevlar. I know that sounds a little insane and in some ways it is, but it works. I'm Nightwing but I'm not all that sure that Nightwing is me. **And it took me a long time—a **_**very**_** long time to work all that out and get the balance. Some people never get it. A lot of people, friends, family, never get to the point of being able to understand it and I think that's why so many marriages in the community fail and fail fast. **

CK: Like an actor playing a role then taking off the greasepaint and going home for the night?

NW: Sort of, yeah.

CK:Okay, something I've wondered about; do you think that being Robin and later Nightwing adversely affected you over all.

NW: In terms of what? I'm not sure I understand what you're asking me here. **Sure, it affected me, but adversely?**

CK: I mean, is your life better or worse because you're a recognized hero? Do you ever wake up in the morning and wish that you were just some average Joe?

NW: Sure, sometimes I do, if it's been a bad week or I'm more sore than usual or some case is really frustrating me.

CK: What do you do then?

NW: Take hot shower, go out for breakfast, maybe talk to a friend or just take a walk, just like anyone does when they're having a bad day. Then I usually suck it up and go to my night job.

CK: But you ever wish that none of this ever happened, that you're just…average?

NW: I don't think, I'm, but, I mean—I'm not average, Clark. I've never been average, I don't think I know how. I have the same needs, the same emotions everyone has but I've never been normal, starting with starting out as a child circus performer and moving on from there. It's just not in the cards I've been dealt.

CK: You're avoiding answering me. 'Never thought about it?

NW: Honestly?

CK: Yes.

NW: Not really. You have to understand that I really do love what I do. Sure, there are days when I want to pull the covers over my head but I get a real charge out of what I do. I always have, 'swear to God. I like my life—it's not perfect and there have been some pretty dark times—and will probably be more—but I like my life. For the most part, anyway. **The weird thing? That's true, I really do like how things have gone. Yeah, I'd rather—really wish my parents were still alive and Bruce was never a walk in the park but beyond that? Yeah, things have turned out okay for me. I may change my mind and I've buried too many friends and my turn could come up any time, but for now? Overall? It's okay.  
**

CK: Let's talk about the future, where do you see yourself in five years, twenty?

NW: Next time, Clark, that's enough for now. Next time. I gotta get to work, okay? Tomorrow.

TBC

6


	5. Chapter 5

**Autobiography**

**Part Five**

**Conclusion  
**

So I didn't see Clark again for almost a month and—okay, I admit it—a large reason was that I was getting tired of talking about myself. Don't get me wrong; I've been interviewed all my life and that's no big deal in and of itself. It's just that Clark knows me, knows me too well and asks questions I'd rather not answer and a simple 'no comment' doesn't fly with him so, yeah, I was avoiding him. Finally, after a few dozen calls and e-mails, I sucked it up and we met at the house, sat by the pool, had a few beers and finished this thing. Besides, I like him, respect him too much to chance him being seriously disappointed with me, so here we go:

Clark Kent: Thanks for agreeing to this, you okay?

Nightwing: Sure, sorry I kept you waiting. Let's do this thing. **'Get it over with, c'mon Clark, 'wrap it up.**

CK: We left off with me asking you where you see yourself in five years, ten, twenty…thoughts?

NW: **Tons, Clark. **I'm still twenty-two, so I know I have a lot of options but, in a perfect world I guess…I suppose that in five years I'll still be pretty much doing what I am now. I'm a cop in Bludhaven and that lets me get in on the ground level with a lot of cases. I can help on a more human level and I like that. I like being able to talk to gang members, maybe get them to not use violence, not use drugs—at least not as often. And I still fly at night. That's pretty much second nature to me now and it's part of me. I guess, I think I'm arrogant enough to think that I'm…okay…at it. I seem to be able to make a difference both in and out of costume and that's the point of what we do, y'know?

CK: In ten years?

NW: I'll be in my early thirties. With any luck I'll still be healthy enough to function, still do a lot of the same things. I'd think, I mean, I hope that I'll have moved past being a cop on the beat. I don't mean to knock that, not at all, but I can do more with the bigger crimes if I move up in the force, 'just being practical here. In spandex? I'm not sure. I should still be pretty much at my physical peak then, assuming I don't have any major injuries—and that's a big assumption.

CK: I know you've been injured a number of times. 'Anything that you think might become a long range problem for you?

NW: Nothing really. Maybe—I don't know but maybe…I've had a few concussions and a skull fracture. Sometimes I'm afraid that I might end up with Parkinson's or something like that. 'Nothing yet, but, yeah, it's in the back of my mind. **God—it scares the hell out of me. 'Never admit it, but yeah. Have you ever seen pictures of Ali when he was sick—I mean after all the pounding he took in the ring? He shook, he shook all the time; his hands shook and his body was stiff like he was afraid that if he moved fast he'd fall over. I have nightmares about that sometimes because I know it could happen to me. Being physical, being an athlete is important to me—knowing that my body responds and does what I want it to, knowing I'm in control is a big part of what I am and I'd hate to lose that, 'hate to be dependant. I don't know if I could stand that, I really don't know if I could.**

CK: Have you ever been checked?

NW: Sure. 'So far, so good. **It still scares me. A lot.**

CK: What about personally; I mean in around ten years, where would you like to be?

NW: Like getting married, that kind of personal?

CK: Whatever you term 'personal', yes.

NW: I'm not sure. Part of me really wants that—marriage, a home, kids—the whole thing but—I don't know.

CK: What don't you know?

NW: If it's in the cards for me.

CK: Because?

NW: Because this isn't an easy life, you know that, Clark. No one—okay, almost no one I know in the business has managed to make it work, at least not for the long haul. **You know that, Clark, c'mon. 'Divorce, separation, death. Shit happens; especially when you're getting shot at, tied up, tortured, dealing with the criminally insane, terrorists, organized crime. It happens more often than it doesn't; the odds are against us.**

CK: Are you afraid of not finding a woman who can put up with the double stress of being with a policeman and a vigilante? Or are you saying that you don't know if you could deal with having the responsibility of knowing that something could happen to a wife or children? It's a conventional wisdom that the dependants and family of a hero become potential targets. Is that what may be holding you back? **Jesus, Clark—what the hell do you **_**think**_**? I've seen the security you have Lois hiding behind when she's in your apartment and the tracking devices and all you've got her tied to. 'Worry much?**

NW: Of course that's a concern, Clark—hell, yeah. And sure, I grew up in the world—I listened to the same songs and saw the same movies and read the same books everyone does. We all want to find someone to love who loves us back but it's not easy, is it? I mean, I like people but there aren't too many I can stand for more than the length of a dinner, let alone for decades. And kids—I like kids, I really like them but I'm not sure I'd be a good father.

CK: Why not? I've known you for years and, frankly I think you'd be a great parent, terrific.

NW: But—it's just that, I mean…I could get hurt, killed pretty easily. I went through it, losing parents. I don't know if I could do that to a kid. That sounds melodramatic but I do think about it. I don't want to leave a widow and I don't want another kid to grow up without a father.

CK: How long have you thought this?

NW: C'mon, Clark—you're not a shrink okay? It's a concern; I'd be an idiot not to know the realities I live with.

CK: Have you ever talked about this with Batman or the Titans? Do they feel the same or is this just your own feelings? **Yeah, like this isn't the usual topic de jour at the JL satellite, the Tower and wherever else.**

NK: Batman hasn't ever been married and his last long-term relationship ended a few years ago. Speedy is a single parent and the kid's mother is in jail. Troia is a widow who's lost her ex, her son and her stepdaughter. Tempest's marriage was in trouble and now he's separated and doesn't have custody of his son. Aquaman is divorced and his son was killed…you want me to go on? What we do isn't easy to live with. **Because it's too easy to die with.**

CK: Well, yes, just the career you've chosen has obvious dangers that are inherent, but…

NW: And I don't have the right to inflict those dangers on a wife or any kids I may end up being responsible for. It's irresponsible, immoral, if you want to put it on that level.

CK: I'm not trying to get into a debate, but aren't you rationalizing your decisions here?

At this point Clark was starting to really piss me off. It was like he was trying to convince me that I could have it all and he was pushing too hard; the rose covered cottage, the perfect wife and a couple of kids along with a dog lying in front of fire waiting to bring me my slippers after a long day. It's not like that—it can't be and it never really was. That's a fantasy and anyone who doesn't understand that probably believes in Santa Claus and the Easter bunny. The reality of my life is that I deal with criminals and major bad guys every day who would consider my death a gold star and a feather in their caps. I have more than one price on my head—and I accept that as part of my job and a measure of how well I do it. But I don't have any right to impose that danger or that life on anyone, especially kids. I don't. Period. And—Jesus—if I did ever go down that road, got married, became a father and something happened to them because of me—how the fuck am I supposed to live with that?

**Haley's burned down because of me. The apartment house I lived in blew up and how many people were killed?**

**On my head, all of that, all those deaths are on my head. I can't add to it. I flat out can't.**

**An hour or two went by while I cooled off before we resumed the interview.**

CK: Nightwing, I'm sorry. You're right, of course, you are in a dangerous position and your concerns about your family and friends are reasonable. But, if I may—my position was more to wonder how you, or anyone, could do this and not have the refuge or security of some kind of emotional backup that a wife, for instance, would give you.

NW: That's okay, I knew what you were getting at. It's just that it's sort of a sore point for me. I do want all of that but I really just don't know how I could ever make it work. It's frustrating sometimes.

CK: But do you think you could continue this for another ten or more years without that kind of support?

NW: I honestly don't know. I've seen what it's done to some of my friends to be out there fighting then go home to a cat or a TV dinner and I know I don't want to be there at the end of the day. I just—I don't know.

CK: All right, let's say, for the sake of argument, that a few years from now you decide that you've had enough of crime-fighting. What do you do? Retire? Get a job? Write your memoirs? Travel?

**Dammit, Clark knows me too well.**

NW: Five or whatever years from now I'm no longer a vigilante? Y'know, I daydream about that sometimes and I think I'd probably try to bring Haley's Circus back to what it used to be, maybe try to merge it with Ringling or retool it to a more Cirque de Soleil kind of thing with a twist of some kind. I'd like to do that, fly again.

CK: Seriously?

NW: Absolutely. I think I could make a go of it and I know I'd have a lot of fun.

CK: You'd leave all this to join the circus?

NW: 'Just coming full circle, Clark, just going home is all it would be. **God, I'd love to do that. 'Not like last time when Haley's was struggling along on three legs but take the time and spend the money to really do it right with all the bells and whistles a real circus needs—costumes, lights, glitz and sequins. 'Have really top-drawer acts. Maybe animals, maybe not. People love to see them but I don't know, I hate to see them caged up the way they have to be but I guess that's negotiable. Man, that would be great.**

CK: Are you happy with your life as it is now?

NW: Pretty much, I am, yes. Not every day, not every minute but who is, right? I'm mostly okay with things the way they are. Sure, there are areas that could use some improvement—a steady woman I love who loves me back would be good but I might get lucky with that sooner or later. Yeah, I'm doing my work, I think I'm pretty good at it most of the time and I'm making a difference.

CK: Do you believe that the hero is necessary?

**Christ, Clark—put me on the spot much, why don't you?**

NW: I think they're more a help than a hindrance, yes.

CK: So you plan to keep doing this for now?

NW: I'll keep doing this as long as you do, how's that sound? **What kind of an answer do you really want here, Clark? I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow, let along twenty years down the road. No guarantees, no promises. That's the agreement we go into this with and we all know it, every single one of us knows it and accepts it. You suit up every night and you cross your fingers because you know it's just a matter of time before you're in the ER again. If you're lucky.**

**I got into this gig because some sleaze murdered my parents for a little money. Bruce knew that catching him was the only way for me to be able to sleep at night and maybe still have some kind of a life. It was supposed to be a one-shot. 'Catch him, put him away and then go back to fourth grade. That's what was supposed to happen.**

**The problem was that fourth grade was boring compared to jumping off rooftops and scoring busts. It was a rush then and it still is but now I see the bigger picture and I know it's not about me. It's not about one scared orphan putting a trauma as much to bed as it's ever going to get. I know it's about making sure that no other fourth graders have to end up jumping off a building at two in the morning to find some resolution and closure.**

**It started out about me. Now it's about everyone else.**

**So the arrangement was that this thing would never see daylight as long as I'm alive so, well—okay, I guess we all know what that means. You're reading this, right?**

**So, here's the deal; I hope that whatever happened, I went out the way I would have liked. I hope that I accomplished something before I got killed and I hope whatever ended things for me was worth dying for. **

**And, even if it wasn't, even if it was just some stupid car accident or a bad case of the flu, that's okay.**

**Truth? No regrets that matter and it's been a hell of a run.**

**5/5/09**

6


End file.
